Stripes, although a sartorial staple of course, their presence in my wardrobe had somewhat fell short of abundance before old faithful Zara recently triumphed with treasure in the form of pale blue pinstripes. Often referred to as what should be a 'basic' element to any respectable person's wardrobe, stripes had before seemed just that to me, basic. Now, I did not attach the style with such term to define the nautical design as boring in my opinion - not at all - but, the navy and white striped allure had always been lost on me. Sure, I thought stripes were great, how could anyone hate something as simple and inoffensive as stripes? Although, even then I owned one or two alternating block coloured items in various forms (and still do, mind, not that these pieces see much wear now and in all honesty they were never my most favoured of items say two years ago either) but still, the infamous Parisian infused acclaim that is so often paired with the Breton stripe just never seemed to hit the sartorial spot in my view - I mean, a stripe is a stripe, what more could you do with it? Zara it seems, knows exactly how to dress up the old, worn-out stripe. Do as Zara and simply revolve the stripe vertically, add an off the shoulder element and you have my full, lustful attention. On paper, the light blue garment is not too dissimilar from a certain stripped H&M crop top which still inhabits my wardrobe, albeit forgotten. Yet, details are important as ever and it so transpires that thin pinstripes and long, oversized sleeves (intentional upsizing, do note) are the way to my stripe-seeking heart, not bandage bodycon fit of the past. Since Zara has rinsed my bank account dry in pursuit of quenching my stripe shortage, the lure of the simple and never fussy stripe has seemingly strengthened. Whether it be a French Bretton a la Bridget Bardot inspiring a lust for a certain Comme Des Garcons Play top or even, a wish for a navy striped midi skirt, the once given characteristic of basic needn't apply anymore.


Following on from my previous post divulging the recent evolution of fashion blogs, I thought it would be apt to share my favourites, to keep the love going and all. I will have had a fashion blog for four years this September (only 3 of which have been on this platform) and my interest in such has not wavered one bit - for my own person musings and the content of other fashion bloggers - if anything, I would say such has spiked over the years. There is nothing I love more than discovering new blogs to read, and there are those that I love for both their style and their words, the latter it is after all, what makes fashion so intriguing to me, I adore a good story.


Alexa Chung is certainly no stranger to the fashion world. Not only is the 32 year old notoriously well dressed, something which has seen her accumulate a passionate following and notoriety within the industry and beyond, her talent too has stretched to many a corner of the fashion industry. With everything from modelling, presenting, writing, and, most recently, designing in her repertoire, whatever Alexa turns her hand to seemingly turns to gold, and is destined to be a hit. There is no surprise then, that Marks and Spencer turned to Chung to curate a 31 piece womenswear collection for the high-street brand inspired by their vast and historical archive, aptly entitled Archive By Alexa. 


As fashion blogs go, personal style posts are often the main feature at hand - and there is a valid reason for this of course. While a blog is a personal platform mainly created in order to voice your own opinions, when the category of 'fashion blog' comes to mind, instinct rings the definition of such as more of a showcase of ensembles curated by its founder. Now, while I adore writing - as an aspiring fashion journalist after all - constructing posts about diverse topics within the fashion industry is just as engaging and as inspiring for me as styling and shooting an outfit for a personal style post. Even though, when the latter is in prime position on the blog front, I enjoy narrating the clothing pictured just as much as I would a descriptive overview of a catwalk collection. While it is definitely words that engross me more so, and the power that a good fashion journalist can hold over me is second to none, there will always be a lingering, captivating quality that any striking styling post has in common which allows such to stun with or without accompanying words. Think Pinterest even, and Tumblr - websites founded on the very basis of the practice of curating images which suit your desires or aesthetic even, with a platform with its sole focus on the visual aspect, it leaves very little room left for words. These platforms in the modern social media age of today are so saturated with personal style, street style and editorial shoots that it is pleasurably hard to avoid encountering any of the aforementioned and, this is not a bad thing at all. However, the undeniable influence and popularity of sole images leaves me wondering if, without all of the articles penned by my most favoured bloggers and journalists alike, would the power of fashion blogs and their influence still ring as true and bright as it does for me today, in their current written format?


I have a confession of sartorial standing to make, one that almost makes feel like a fraud, what, standing there in a pair of Stan Smiths, otherwise known as one of fashions most favoured style of trainer. Until point of purchase of said athleisure footwear, I had taken a rather adverse approach to remotely anything that emulated the 'sportswear for casual wear' trend and so on. For me, fashion has always translated into my personal style as something more elevated than casual - not to say that what I decide to wear is a forced decision or 'put on' statement - but, I have always gravitated towards feeling structured in an outfit, an ensemble which looks absorbing, layered with depth, because with that brings a shield of comfort - regardless of the actual comfort level of the featured fabric or footwear - as that is something sportswear in my eyes could never possess and so thus, its appeal time after time, had failed on me.